The Desert

The old woman walked into the desert. She did not intend to return. Such grandmother wisdom as she possessed was dangerous now. The soldiers had come, followed by the missionaries, and her people were weak and broken. They would not listen to her, and, indeed, she dared not speak truth to them, for their sake as well as hers. She would leave her wisdom in the desert for them to find. She knew that the people would find a way to survive, and that some would come searching for what she would leave behind.

At least, that's how the story goes. Some people say that she became that mountain over there, that we call Grandmother Mountain. Some say that her bones and her spirit can still be found in Old Woman's Cave, where we never go. (And no, I won't take you there.)

For myself, I don't believe either of those things. I think that the old woman became the desert itself. Doesn't the desert remind you of an old woman? So prickly and dry and almost dead, yet full of life if you know where to look? Doesn't it seem that there is wisdom here, if we knew how to take it in? If we could understand the desert, we would understand grandmother wisdom. At least, that's how it seems to me.